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Finn grinned. "Isn't it always?"
His green eyes flicked to the maps and flashlight in my hands, and the smile dropped from his handsome face. "You found a way in yet?"
"I've found a way up the mountain. We'll worry about getting inside after we reach the mansion. "
I showed Finn the creek bed that we'd be hiking up. He took the map from me and studied the terrain. But after a minute, he put the map down and stared up at the mountain before us. His fingers tapped out a staccato pattern on his thigh.
"What are you thinking?" I asked.
Finn sighed, and his hand stilled. "That I hate that it's come to this. That it's all my fault. I didn't expect things to get so complicated. Not with Roslyn or Elliot Slater. If I'd known just how badly the giant was obsessed with her, how messy this whole situation was going to get, I never would have told Xavier that we'd help them. I would never risk you like that, Gin. "
"I know," I said in a soft voice.
We didn't speak for a few seconds.
"We don't have to do this," Finn finally said. "You don't have to do this. Roslyn left Jo-Jo's of her own free will, even after you told her not to, even after you told her that you'd take care of Slater. The best-case scenario is that Slater has just beaten her. But we both know that Roslyn's probably dead by now, that we could be risking ourselves for absolutely nothing. "
Everything that Finn said was true, and he was only voicing the same troubling thoughts that I'd had on the drive up here. But there was one more thing that we both had to think about before we made our decision.
"And what would Fletcher do if he were here?" I asked. "What would the old man say?"
Finn stared up at the mountain a few more seconds, before turning to face me. "He'd say that we made a promise to Roslyn, and that you can never go back on your word. " A smile tightened Finn's face. "And he'd grouse that it's about damn time somebody gave Elliot Slater exactly what he deserved. "
"Exactly," I replied. "I gave Xavier my word. More importantly, I gave it to Roslyn too. Even if she might not be alive to appreciate it. "
"I know. " Finn reached over and squeezed my hand. "But I'll be with you, every step of the way. I love you, Gin. "
"I love you too. " I squeezed back. "Now let's go kill the bastard. "
I climbed into the backseat of my Benz, peeled off the clothes that I'd been wearing at the Pork Pit, and pulled a fresh set out of the duffel bag that Sophia Deveraux had handed me. Thick, black cargo pants, a long-sleeved black turtleneck, a tight-fitting black vest with numerous pockets, boots, socks. I gathered my dark brown hair into a ponytail, then pulled a black watchman's cap over my head as low as I could and still have a clear field of vision. In the front seat, Finn donned a similar set of black clothes.
Once I was properly attired for the evening's activities, I took a small tin of black grease out of the bag and smeared it all over my face. Wouldn't do much good to dress in black from head to toe and have my pale face shining like a beacon in the night. When I finished, I passed the tin over to Finn. He wrinkled his nose but dipped his fingers into the grease and darkened his own face.
I got out of the car and shouldered the duffel bag with its remaining contents, including Finn's maps, my flashlight, and Owen Grayson's two long swords. I also slid a pair of night-vision goggles on over my head. A moment later, Finn did the same, bringing his own bag and goggles with him. Our heavy boots crunched on the gravel of the gas station's parking lot. Under my feet, the sharp stones whispered of the roll of tires over them, the chug-chug-chugs of the gas pumps, the chime of the bell over the door of the station. Normal sounds. Nothing to be worried about-so far.
Finn and I left the parking lot behind and slipped into the woods on the far side of the station. It didn't take us long to find the dried-up creek bed, and we stepped down into the shallow rut and started working our way up the mountainside. By walking up the creek bed, all we had to worry about stepping on were loose stones, and the lack of trees and branches in our path let the two of us move quickly and quietly at the same time. We didn't speak as we walked, saving our breath for the terrain.
We'd only been hiking about twenty minutes when Finn put his foot down on something that snapped with a loud crack. We both froze. The sound reverberated through the immediate area before the wind whipped it down the mountain. Finn and I dropped to the ground, waiting, but no one came to investigate the noise.
When I was sure we hadn't attracted any unwanted attention, I shone my flashlight on the ground underneath Finn's boot. To my surprise, Finn had stepped on what looked like a long, brittle femur bone, snapping it in half. Definitely a human bone, probably belonging to a giant, from the length of it. Looked like Fletcher Lane had been right about the mountain being a dumping ground for the bodies of Elliot Slater and Mab Monroe's enemies.
Finn raised his eyebrows. He knew a bone when he saw it too. I shrugged. Nothing we could do for whomever it had been attached to, so we moved on.
The air grew colder, sharper, the higher we climbed, burning my lungs like liquid fire. I kept my mouth closed and breathed in only through my nose, trying to minimize the sensation. The metallic scent of snow gusted on the night breeze, and heavy clouds clung low to the ground, partially obscuring the moon and stars, before being pushed on by the wind. I wanted all the cover I could get, and for once, luck, that cruel, capricious bitch, seemed to be smiling on me. I knew it wouldn't last.
A few birds rustled in the thick branches of the maple, elm, and pine trees over our heads, but our footsteps and movements were small and quiet enough for them to keep a silent watch on us, instead of fluttering up into the darkness and alerting whoever might be watching. Besides, they were safe and warm for the night and didn't want to give up their roosts if they didn't have to. The birds sensed they weren't our prey for the evening and were content enough in their trees and nests to let Finn and me pass without comment or criticism.
I wasn't sure how long we'd been walking before the creek bed veered west, away from the mansion. I climbed up out of the shallow rut and slithered forward into the black shadow provided by a large walnut tree. Finn followed me.
According to Finn's maps, Valhalla lay due east another mile up the mountain. We were still far enough away that I pulled out my flashlight and shone it over the maps, getting my bearings for the final time. Finn peered over my shoulder, doing the same. He nodded, and I turned off the flashlight and stuffed the maps back into my duffel bag. We climbed on.
I took the lead once more, moving more slowly and cautiously than before. Elliot Slater was secure enough in his mountain retreat not to have any exterior security measures, like lasers or dogs. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy of him, but I wasn't going to complain, as it made things easier for Finn and me. Besides, I'd never liked killing dogs, even if their owner was a cold-blooded bastard who needed to be put down.
Still, the lack of obvious security didn't mean that Slater hadn't come up with some other clever, deadly way to booby-trap the perimeter. I would have. So I kept an eye out for trip wires, small holes, and flashes of light that would alert me to the fact that we were approaching a trap-or worse, had just set off some sort of defensive, protective rune. I had no desire to take a fireball to the chest because I'd put my feet or hands somewhere they shouldn't be. Finn followed my path exactly to further minimize the risk.
But we didn't stumble across anything, and several minutes later, we crested a ridge that overlooked the mansion.
As its name implied, Valhalla was a massive, six-story structure that took up a good portion of this particular mountain. The building was constructed of thick, heavy wood, inlaid with gray granite and river rock. Several balconies and patios wrapped around the structure, offering sweeping views of the surrounding mountains and hillsides below. It would be a gorgeous spot to take in the blaze of fall color as the leaves changed. But with winter approaching, the leaves had already fallen, revealing the bony, fingerlike fragments of the trees, interspersed with the thick, green boughs of the pines and firs that stood up like rows of jagged, mossy green teeth among the bare maples and poplars.
